A SOUND SO SWEET / open

[ADAKIAS]

[div style="letter-spacing: 1px;"]i'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies ----- information
I'LL TELL YOU MY SINS AND YOU CAN SHARPEN YOUR KNIFE !
--✷--

[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:50%;font-family:georgia;font-size:11px"]Sylvina was old enough now and well aware of her family and all the matters that came with them. Pincher was a hard-working and driven captain wanting only the best for his crewmates and relationships — that being between his children, fiancé and fellow peers. He truly was a figure for an aspiring adolescent such as herself to look up to. It was admirable how the male, rich with a dark history, could completely transform himself around his offspring and significant other, offering endearment and devotion towards those closest to him. Sylvina often wondered how he could be so kind and loving to others when his own kin in the past hadn’t provided the same affliction. She was aware that his father wasn’t the best, but that was about the extent of her knowledge on the subject. Maybe when she was older she would ask him about it. Afterall, the ebony kitten enjoyed learning more about her dad and simply spending time with him.

And her other biological parent, Aphra? Well, it was a shame really that Syl and her siblings hadn’t been granted the opportunity to form a mother-child bond with the female. It seemed that Ceasar, Aphra’s father and Slyvina’s grandfather, was the same as his daughter; uninterested in getting to know his family. Maybe it was a Cipher thing. Aphra sure as hell didn’t seem to want to get involved with her children. The young Bengal could begin attempting complicated tides, yet the subject on why her mother had even had her and the others in the first place if she hadn’t intended on sticking around was quite the tough situation to comprehend for the four month old.

Nevertheless, Sylvina tried not to think about it too much. It was a frustrating topic, her mother. Where the hell was she all the time? Gone? Dead? At this point Sylvie was beginning not to care as much about her mother’s wellbeing in comparison as to how much anger she had about the situation. The young minnow was aware that Aphra had a liking for the tavern, possibly because of the attention her attractive and fitting frame could allure. If it was awareness and validity the older female desired then all she had to do was interact with her children. Sylvina would have loved her mother regardless of the prior circumstances if she had just stayed around and shared the same affection towards her kits as their father. Unfortunately that hadn’t been the case, and most likely never would.

The experience of having one deadbeat parent and other being far more superior in parenting was quite unique. There was the gratitude that Sylvina felt towards her father, the love unwavering for her involvement in her life. And on the other hand she was beginning to feel anger. First it had been sadness — why didn’t mother dearest not love her? What did she do wrong? Then the sense of guilt would transform itself into the fiery emotion of rage; pure and utter vexation that her mother, given the perfect oppurtunity to have a family, had “abandoned” her children.

”Who does that?” Sylvina would hiss faintly underneath her breathe as she trekked throughout the jungle with no set destination in mind. Her tail would lash angrily behind her small frame and olive eyes would stay narrowed upon with her gaze ahead - somewhat to keep her vision focused and somewhat to keep the frustrated tears in place. It was a complex emotion that she really hadn’t felt much in her short existence, yet it was already taking a toll in her head.

The ebony pelted minnow had been so preoccupied in her thoughts that she hadn't caught whiff of the duckling trailing after her. The small creature would let out a quack to break the silence, causing Sylvina to whip around instantly, her jowls parted in what seemed like a snarl. "Go away." She'd hiss down towards the dumbfounded creature. SHe most definitely not in the mood to be disrupted. All she wanted was to be alone and work things out of her system in due time. Her words didn't seem to register across the obvious language barrier and, as soon as Syl began walking once more, the bird would presume its place after following her, more noises releasing from its bill.

In any other circumstance where she wasn't so worked up in her mind then she might as well have enjoyed the presence of the duckling. Slyvina actually quite enjoyed being around the native species of the island and exploring the different animals. But now? There were a million thoughts racing within her head, all of which were nothing but negative and cynical. It would be the first of many anxiety attacks the Bengal would endure within her life. The sentiment of feeling enclosed within her emotions was only but a byproduct of what had started out as a thought about her mother that had spiraled into animosity. Sylvina hadn't a clue on what was happening, and nor was she in any frame of mindset to cope with it. The words racing around her brain intermingling with the sound of her heartbeat, laced with the noises of that stupid bird quaking behind her .. It was too much to bear.

"I SAID GO AWAY!" She'd yell at the duckling, her paws aimlessly grasping towards the avian. She could feel herself make contact upon the young duck's body with desultory claws experiencing the gratification of plunging into flesh. It all had happened so fast with tears blurring the kitten's vision during the entire reaction. As soon as Sylvina could register what she had done and pull her body off of the small animal, the victim of her violent outlash would let out a dying babel before succumbing to its fatal wounds.

"Oh, o-oh.." Was all that could escape from her gasping jaws as she backed up a bit, the paw that had been the undoing of the creature instinctively pressing against her mouth in shock. She didn't mean to kill the duckling, she just.. What had she meant to do? Sylvina couldn't think, couldn't comprehend nor process what was going on. Her brain was ringing with such torment at her swirling reactions that the kitten couldn't help but fall to the jungle floor in a crying heap, unaware of the crimson from her kill that began to seep into her ebony fur.

(tl;dr sylvina experienced her first anxiety attack/violent outlash after concentrating on a bad thought (her mom) for too long. she "accidently" killed a duckling and is now crying about it)

[CAESAR CIPHER.]

IT'S ALL IN YOUR HEAD !

CAESAR CIPHER. MALE. THE TYPHOON. OFFICER.

Perhaps the reason Aphra was the way she was, was Caesar. The demon wasn't a very good father to her; in fact, he hadn't been in her life at all. However, she should be lucky in that sense, considering how he treated Gordon, Billiam, and Horizon. Then again, Aphra was his favorite out of all of his kids, so she likely wouldn't have been treated that harshly. But Sylvina's assumption of it being a Cipher 'tradition' was true. Caesar didn't take care of any of his kids, so why should his daughter? Despite that, his parents were very much involved in his life, but Caesar just... didn't care. It was as simple as that.

Caesar was alerted to the scene upon hearing Sylvina's yell, and the Officer arrived just in time to see the little she-kit murder the duckling that had been bothering her. Of course, he hadn't been aware that the duckling wasn't the issue, but still. He was strangely proud of her. A grin formed on his face as he got closer, though once he realized Sylvina was crying, that grin quickly faded. "Get up, Sylvina." The demon grunted. "What's the issue?" He was just asking this to get confirmation on what happened, but he assumed she was sobbing over the fact she just murdered something.

#psychosocial.

[no more]

[align=center][div style="width: 230px; font-family: georgia; color: #7b8189; font-size: 10px; text-align: center;line-height: 110%; padding-top:10px; padding-bottom:10px"]i'll never get to heaven cause i don't know how

The complicated matter of her conception had been no real secret for it had become a topic of debate even as she had drawn her first birth, her very existence judged before she had the words to defend herself, to speak her piece upon it. But then what where her thoughts on it. Many times she had turned the thought over in her mind, had gently tried to coax from it some reasoning until her patience had simply broken, swallowed by a typhoon of anger bubbling within her chest. Still so young though her experiences and the world about her had forced her to grow, to mature at at pace no child should have to, she had not the words needed to properly speak of her thoughts.

Yet to consider Pincher, the man who had fathered them simply because the mood had struck him, because there was one around willing to let him sleep with her, a good father was an idea she would scoff at. Indeed he was a hard-working and driven man, capable of so much beneath the immense pressure which he had put upon himself, but the wear was present, a strain to a select few. Though Sylvina might have come to form high opinions about him there was no such thing for her, nothing but the gnawing worry, the want to please and yet it was tempered.

She had seen the animosity which had broken apart father and son, the way Coldblue came to look upon their father, his words a sharp knife she had long since tried to abandon yet found in her hand each time, words upon her tongue seeking to be released only for her to swallow them once more. The same animosity had begun to grow within their chest, a delicate flower with razor-sharp petals cutting through her as it came to grow out of control. It did not matter how many attempts they had come to make to reach out to him, to find some way to make him proud of her actions it seemed only to come tumbling down once more, the bitter taste of defeat all too common.

Aphra. The name had long since lost meaning, any feeling born from the bond of mother and daughter severed when she had become little more than a ghost fluttering about the edge of thought, simply a piece of her past. To say Aita cared little for her mother would be a rather large understatement, rather she had become nothing to the child, a figment of her imagination if nothing more. Even to feel the word mother upon her tongue, to taste it there as she prepared to speak it, felt as though poison seeped through her tongue, eating away at it until it could not move to make the sound any longer. What point was there in attempting to care for one who didn't care for her, who had so perfectly removed herself from her life as though she were an ill-fitting puzzle piece merely filling a space until the right piece was found.

In many ways it seemed a flip was present in terms of the sisters feelings – her anger and love was a mixed thing, presented towards Pincher with an uneasy air, tempered by something she had no words to describe. And Aphra was nothing, no hatred lingered there for her heart had hardened to her, breaking the ties as easily as one might cut through string with no care to see the frayed ends reconnected once more. Where only unconditional love was present Aita formed more complicated bonds, had found little beyond the facade Pincher extended to the word, those private moments between father and daughter tense for what was there to say when the two were so alike. Like father like daughter, she was a creature with a darkness hiding it all behind a false grin.

Dark ears swivelled around when a cry rose – too familiar to be comfortable, the pain within it hitting too close to her heart for her not to force herself up, seeking the source. Left sodden, for Aita had taken to sitting at the very edge of the surf and allowing the water to wash over her paws, feeling them become numb and left to tingle, a sensation both unpleasant and yet satisfying, she was slowed by the extra weight of water in her thick pelt, each step short and quick. Caeser was the first to catch the dark kitten's attention, the worried little frown which had been curling her lips deepening, a sharp edge to it now as she looked upon her grandfather. Same as his daughter there was little feeling of warmth or love shared between them, nor did Aita care to be the one to extend the torch of friendship, petty as it was she saw no reason for it and so forwent caring for him.

“Can't ya see she needs 'elp,” she snapped, the words laced with venom, as she brushed by the demon, teeth bared at him before her lips curled once more into a frown. Dipping down onto her belly she slowly crept closer, dragging her weight forward until she was within arms reach of Sylvina but never reaching to touch her, not yet. Unprepared for such a situation she held no real idea of how to handle things, simply working with the information she had on hand, the darkened patches upon her sister catching her eye. Drawn to the carcass she uttered a soft cuss beneath her breath, reaching out to gently place a paw atop Sylvina's, speaking only so she could hear.

“Ya're okay, was an... accidin, no un will be un'appy or angry,” murmuring in a soft tone she pulled herself a tiny bit closer, making a move to draw her sister towards her, yet being sure her intent was known and giving Sylvina a chance to stop her if it wasn't what she wanted.

the tyhpoon — minnow — tags